


Pond

by EpicKiya722



Series: 🌕♋💜🌌🔮Cute Shorts Written By a Cancerian🔮🌌💜♋🌕 [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Animal Death, Based off a dream, Bittersweet Ending, Blood, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Dark Fantasy, Emotional Hurt, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Horror, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Memory Loss, MerMay, MerMay 2020, Mermaids, Murder, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Touching, Obsessive Behavior, One-Sided Attraction, Pond Mermaid, Possessive Behavior, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Unnamed characters - Freeform, Unwanted attention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:54:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24011629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EpicKiya722/pseuds/EpicKiya722
Summary: There's a pond in the backyard. It's a beautiful pond, but she feels something lurks in there. Something that lurks in there and wants her.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Series: 🌕♋💜🌌🔮Cute Shorts Written By a Cancerian🔮🌌💜♋🌕 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797328
Comments: 12
Kudos: 39





	Pond

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I wrote for MerMay 2020. Ironically, I had this dream about a mermaid coming out a pond and kidnapping me just when this month started, so I thought why not write it? It's horror and I don't write horror much so forgive if it's not what you expected. Couldn't really stop writing it though.

It starts with a new house. A house with what a lot of her neighbors say sat in the perfect spot and envied greatly. A house her parents left her and had only lived in for five years before they both died. It's not a big house, well, it was. But it was a nice size for a young woman like her. One master bedroom with its own bathroom and walk-in closet, two additional smaller bedrooms, another bathroom, a kitchen, a living room, a family room, a garage and a large backyard.

And just at the end of the backyard was a pond.

A pond that stretched a good length, huge in size and looked like sparkling black diamonds at night. Early mornings, the pond sat still, As the sun rise, the water would twinkle and ripple with life that came. Seeing ducklings swim behind their mama was a wholesome sight.

A sight she didn't mind watching from the door that lead to the yard. If she didn't have to work, she would sit there in the grass just to watch the pond, coffee in hand and made the way she liked. The air would be cool and brush against the skin of her shoulders and neck.

She didn't mind it. Not at all.

* * *

  
First, the chills came.

She would feel something... someone probably reaching out to her as she moved in between rooms of her house. She would carry a box and stop. For whatever reason, her eyes would land on the pond. No matter the state of the pond, it suddenly... it suddenly creeped her out. As if something would come out of it. Something that may come for her.

Eventually, she stopped going outside in the mornings to watch the pond. She kept the curtains drawn closed and double checked the lock on the door. She didn't step outside to clean the glass of that sliding panel. 

She tried to convince herself that she isn't going crazy, just being cautious. After all, she lived alone and was still young.

* * *

  
Nightmares.

Nights were being spent now with her curled completely under her blanket to block out the offending darkness. She would keep the television on just so noise could drown out the silence of the room. It was hard, but eventually she would fall asleep.

However, the moment her eyes closed, she could see vibrant, threatening gold irises boring intensely in her soul. She could make out saliva coat sharp fangs. The feeling of claws scratching away at her skin. And scales...

Scales that were dark red. An inky dark red. A red that blended into ashen grey skin. Cold, grey skin.

Her body wouldn't move in her nightmares. She couldn't even scream. What saved her was the abrupt pounce of whatever conquered her nightmares, aimed for her and waking her up in a rude jump.

She would wake up drenched in icy sweat, her curls mangled on her head and her clothes feeling tight despite being loose.

She felt helpless every time. Paranoid and helpless.

* * *

  
She only peeked out the glass to assure herself that maybe nothing is out there to get her. Nothing, nothing at all.

Unfortunately, that assurance couldn't be welcomed.

Not when her eyes found blood smeared against the glass.

Blood that curved into a language she didn't know.

Blood that prompted her to get gloves, a sponge and a bucket of hot soapy water.

* * *

  
The blood was a warning. A warning that was followed by dewy colorful stones at the door. Just five small speckled ruby and midnight black colored stones. They're beautiful, and she's sure they're worth so much. But she leaves them there.

She leaves them there and doesn't go to the back for the next couple of days.

She almost forgets about the stones until she believed she heard a tap on the glass as she was passing through the family room. She stops, spooked. She stares at the curtains, thankful they're black because it's night so she doesn't see if there's anything there. She stares and then retreats to her room. She curls in her bed and lays there. She lays there and hears another tap. One that sounds a little more impatient than the first.

She doesn't move.

* * *

  
It's bright and somehow the sun gives her a shield of security. It aids her when she peeks at pass the curtains. She doesn't see the glass smeared when blood and the stones remain in their spot. Next to them is a torn duck.

A breath is caught in her throat when she does notice. Her eyes water. Her feet move before thought and she feels as if she teleported to the porcelain bowl. The little breakfast she had is flushed down and her throat burns a great deal.

She lays there on the tiles, letting a tear draw on her brown skinned cheek.

* * *

  
She calls someone to clean the duck's carcass away because she can't find herself to do it. However, a streak of rage enforces her to throw the stones away. The stones are tossed into the pond. One by one, each landing and sinking into the water in a growing distance from where she stood.

After, she collapses on the bed and wonders who did she anger to torture her.

* * *

  
It's her name.

Her name sung alluringly and beckoning her.

It's tempting her. Tempting her to leave the safety net of her blanket. She doesn't. She grips the pillow hard, using it to clog her ears. She turns up the volume of the television.  
It goes on and on. It goes on and on.

Then it stops.

It stops just three hours before the sun arrives.

* * *

  
It repeats the next two nights. She invests in ear plugs, but they don't help. Whatever that sings to her wants her to hear their song.

She loses sleep and goes to work with bags under her eyes. Her coworker questions her well-being. She brushes them off and says she's fine.

She's not, obviously. Something was playing with her. Something... someone was toying with her and she fears it. She fears it will become an endless cycle.

She contemplates about moving. Her heart tells her it was all just an illusion, that it will pass. That she can't move from the house her parents left her. But her mind protests. Just move away. Move, sell the house. Then she thinks, _'_ _what if this thing follows me?'_

What would be the point to leave?

* * *

  
She chooses to stay, but not to ignore this.

Whatever is taunting her will just continue on without so much of a rest.

She sits by the door that night, peeking out the curtain once in a while. Hours wane and nothing comes to that glass. She knows if she falls asleep it will come. So she leaves the camera on, making sure the battery is full.

* * *

  
What it captures is not explainable.

The image is a blurred black blob. With two piercing golds staring. Everything in the photo is clear and she's at a total lost. Could it be something or someone moving at a speed too fast to be made out? Maybe it just looks like that? 

There's many questions. Many questions she wants answered, but not sure how to get them answered. Could the internet work?

She gives it a try and uploads the photo on a somewhat reliable site.

A few reply to her question, but one sticks out to her.

**\-- I seen a picture like this before. A friend of mine lived near a pond and he took a picture of whatever it was that was bothering him and it came out like this.**

'Lived near a pond.'

That. That right there...

She quickly types a response to that, asking can she talk to the user privately. A second later they answer back with a yes. She finds their account and messages them.

**I know this seems a little off-put, but your friend? Can you tell me a little more about their situation? Did they ever find out what was the picture of?**

**\-- He didn't believe it, but someone told him it was a mermaid. Some 'studies' state that mermaids can't be taken in photo because they use glamours. So they appear blurred.**

**What makes the person he asked say it was a mermaid?**

**\-- He told them how he felt like was being watched. That he got constant nightmares and sworn he heard singing. Like someone calling his name. He had also got stones and even a few dead animal carcasses at his door.**

**\-- The person he took this to told him that mermaids tend to be giving to whoever that imprint on and want as a mate. They're also territorial.**

**Does he still live near that pond?**

She's edged right now. With the words on screen, she's cold. The anticipation aches when she doesn't get an immediate answer like before. When she does, it's an answer she wished she didn't get.

**\-- He's not living anymore. He had gotten a girlfriend and then suddenly he and she turned up dead in the house. A neighbor had complained about a smell to me when I went over to visit him. When I opened the door, all I saw was blood on the walls. I had called the cops and when they arrived they checked out the place. The back door was smashed in and glass was everywhere. His body was found mangled and cut up in the living room. There was even a huge bite mark on his neck. His girlfriend was practically tore to pieces in the bathroom.**

Her laptop was luckily seated on the counter top. Had it been in her lap, it would dropped to the floor and broke into pieces when she stood up.

She felt completely sick, light-headed.

There was no way that was real, right? She was just being played. Yeah...

**If you don't mind me asking, was this on the news or something?**

**\-- It was written on, yeah. I can send you the links.**

**That would be appreciated. Thank you.**

**\-- It's no problem.**

She gets the link, which serves as the last bit of their conversation. The link comes with a warning.

**\-- If this happening to you, too, I advise you get away as soon as you can. They never found the murderer, but I do believe it was a mermaid. Maybe something else non-human. No human could do that. Not even an animal. Leave.**

She decides to follow that advice, clicking on the link and adding a tab to the browser so she can start looking for apartments.

* * *

  
It takes her hours to finally convince herself that she was indeed a mermaid's target. She had read the article and was absolutely mortified by it. Pictures were provided of the bloodied walls. The blood was just randomly splattered either. No. The blood was used like ink to carve in that same language that was written on her door not too long ago. Other pictures shown damaged furniture and broken glass. The last were of the white sheets covering the victims. Her heart was ripped when she took it all in. Every word, every picture. Everything. 

The article just seemed like a gruesome, inhumane murder to some. But she knew better. She knew better after she researched about mermaids and sure enough what she found matched her experience.

Singing, nightmares, stones.

The artworks provided gave uncanny visuals of what she guessed her mermaid may look like. Haunting, soulless eyes. Jagged, teeth made for gnawing flesh. Webbed hands. Scales. wet, clumped hair.

Some art depicted mermaids like they were beautiful women with perfect hair and skin, beautiful rainbow tails to match. Those pictures didn't make her feel any better about the situation. In fact, she felt like the pictures just gave false hope. They did, who is she kidding?

This mermaid is a killer. No way she would look harmless. For all she knew, she could be model-worthy, but the moment she could, that mermaid would reveal her true monstrous nature. The mermaid was halfway there leaving gifts she dare bring into her home.

* * *

  
The television played some old movie, but it sounded like static. It was another night of that song alluring her and she wonders if only she could hear it. She brings her knees closer to her chin and tightens her blanket. The song still taunts at her.

She wants to tell that mermaid to shut up and leave her alone, but fear scowls her not to. Not anger the killer more than she may already have.

Then, she hears something different.

She hears clicking.

Clicking and chirping sounds.

Not clicking of lights or chirping of crickets.

It's from that mermaid.

She understands it, too. The clicking and chirping is somehow easily cracked like a code.

_"I'm sorry..."_

Sorry?

_"Please... answer me..."_

She can't. She refuses.

_"Come home with me..."_

She is home.

The clicking and chirping continues. It continues and it sounds sadder with each beat.

It even sounds closer.

_"I need you..."_

Need her for her own selfish reasons. 

_"Please..."_

She hears tapping on her window, immediate fright shooting up her spine. She doubts it's a tree because no tree is that close to the window. It's not an animal. The tapping is rhythmic.

_"Please... my mate..."_

She beats herself for looking. What she sees horrifies her.

The shine from the moon and porch's light shoots through her dark curtains, showcasing a figure against the glass. The shadow is black but she can see two tiny gold orbs staring at her. She sits up, alert and wastes no time leaping out the bed and running to the kitchen. She violently opens the first drawer she comes to and searches for the largest knife she has. She takes it, holding it to herself as her eyes scan her surrounding. She doesn't turn on anything to see. Not when she can spot the figure by the door to the backyard. Webbed hands are pressed against the glass and she hears hissing.

_"Mine... mine...."_

She prays the mermaid just leaves, but her pleading is unheard. She sees that the mermaid is pressing harder onto the glass, easily creating large threatening cracks. She runs, going into her room and heading for the walk-in closet. She remembered to lock the doors despite her mind being in a disunfunctional haze. She hides in a corner, knife still in hand. Her breathing is still as she hears her door being crashed into and growling.

The mermaid is in the house.

She hears fabrics being torn, furniture being tossed and pushed, and hissing.

She wonders was this how scared that man was before his death. Was he in hiding? Did his killer take him by surprise?

The mermaid sings out her name, a hint of confusion and sadness in the tune.

_"Mate...? Mate...?"_

The mermaid sounds closer. Just outside her bedroom.

She pleads 'no' so many times, as if it was the only word she knows. Then becomes quiet like the dead when she hears the doorknob jiggle. Then the wood being broken down.

The mermaid calls again, her body scrapping against the carpet.

The bed is being flipped, the TV is pushed down, more hissing.

Chirping. Clicking.

_"Mate...?"_

The door to the closet is now being messed with.

No. No. No. NO. No... no... no... no...

Please...

BAM!

The door hits the wall, the force resulting in fracturing in the off-white wall. The mermaid is right there, gold eyes peering behind dark, wet hair. She tries to make herself smaller as she watches the mermaid drag herself, clicking and chirping for her. Then the mermaid stops. Right in front of her.

She ducked down behind a dresser in the corner, out of sight, but she knows the mermaid isn't stupid. She knows she's right there.

_"Mate..."_

The dresser is pushed down, hitting the wall. The mermaid reaches for her and gets a knife through her arm. She hisses in pain and disbelief, staring at her with wounded golds. She ignores it, taking the knife and stabbing it in her back before she runs.

She has to be both careful and quick through the broken wood and glass. It's all blurry and dark with the little light provided and the tears flooded in her eyes. Her heart is trying to jump out her chest in a haste as she pushes the curtains and maneuvers through the broken door. She cuts her leg and it slows her down, but she doesn't stop.

She can barely think, wondering who she can run to.

She doesn't have a neighbor to her left and the one to her right is barely home. But if she could make it to any neighbor, if the mermaid survived... would something happen to them?

She couldn't bear it if someone died because of her.

_"Mate!"_

She's knocked down onto the concrete, locked in a tight, moist embrace. She struggles but the arms around her don't budge.

She screams, but then a hand is clamped down on her mouth and she's forced from the street. Through her tears, she can make out she's being carried towards the pond. She also comes to a harsh realization.

The mermaid is walking. Walking...

Looking down, she sees long, naked grey legs coated by possible water and some other substance. Her own is held up as she's lifted with unmatched strength of the mermaid.

Her pleas are muffled by the webbed hand.

The mermaid stops then, just halfway towards the pond. She looks down at her and gently settles her in the grass. She doesn't let go though, holding her tightly by the wrist. Her eyes stay on her, small gold circles engulfed in black pools. She takes this moment to look over the rest of the mermaid and feels sick when she sees it's the one that haunted her nightmares.

Her skin is the same cold, grey, littered with blood red scales. Her hair is midnight black with bits of green underwater life, cascading down just below her exposed breasts. She's thin, but curvy with long limbs. And her face. She's undeniably beautiful, much to her bafflement. Pouty, full lips with the perfect cupid's bow, colored a deep red. Her eyes are sharply almond shaped with dark fluttery lashes. A heart shaped face with small sparkles decorating her nose and around her eyes like a mask.

With human colored skin and a lacking of scales, she was sure this mermaid would make anyone fall to their knees.

But now... she just appeared like some seducing creature masquerading beauty.

The mermaid lays on the ground, still holding her by the wrist. With her free hand, she slowly caresses her tears and sweat covered cheek and smiles.

_"Mate..."_

She stiffens when the mermaid presses her forehead against hers, breathing unevenly like some wounded animal.

_"Mine..."_

She tells the mermaid she's not hers, that she wants to go home. Of course, the protest is nothing but empty words to the mermaid.

Ungodly ripping is heard and she coaxes herself not to search for the source. She doesn't have to.

Right next to her, the mermaid's legs become blistered and coated in blood. Cuts grow larger and larger as red scales peek through the grey flesh. The sight is torture and she dry heaves in disgust, tearing her eyes from the sight. The mermaid nuzzles in her neck, her webbed hand lowering from her face to her bare thigh. Her touching seems to be apologetic, as if she's saying she doesn't mean for her to witness this. It's strange, given that the mermaid is in pain doing this, right?

The ripping stops and the mermaid's weight feels heavier against her. She's shifted and something rough is curled around her.

It's the mermaid's tail.

It's a striking red that glistens like rubies under the moonlight. A thick tail with wispy thin wavy fins at the end. Back and forth that tail moved, brushing against her bare skin.

The mermaid holds her close, nose buried lower to her collarbone, ripping the neck of her shirt a bit. She feels those lips brush against her skin and she shivers. She tries pushing the mermaid away but fails once more. She begs again for the mermaid to let her go, denied once more.

She is then dragged along the grass, closer and closer to the pond until the water takes her in and weighs down on her. She tries to take hold of the dirt and rocks but the mermaid is reluctant and persistent she goes with her.

She stares at her home one more time before the water stabs at her eyes and clouds her sight... and lips are pressed gently against hers.

* * *

  
When she comes to, she's in a lot of pain. Pain that is strong enough to make her plead to go under again.

Chirping and clicking is heard, but it's in different tones and multiplied. She blinks, trying to make out her surroundings. What she sees is a deep blue, vibrant purples and pinks. When she sees more clearer, she sees different faces.

Faces of perfectly sculpted features, painted in various shades of the color spectrum. Sparkling scales and bare wet skin. Webbed hands and fangs.

The mermaid she knows is beside her and she realizes that the mermaid is cradling her close. She's caressing her skin, skin she sees that lacks her damaged pajamas. Instead, her brown skin is littered with twinkling dots that resemble stars and luminescent violet and magenta scales. Said scales that trail down to where her legs once were and now replaced with a long thick tail with fins. She holds up her hands, seeing her nails are much longer and between her fingers is violet webbing. Her neck is adorned with slits on the sides and her mouth feels crowded, the gums itched with the fangs.

She cries out, thrashing against the mermaid and trying to claw at her. She manages to only nick her kidnapper who barely reacts to the cut that decorates her shoulder.

Instead, she guides her to lay on her chest, chirping a coo that doesn't bring her any comfort as her own claws comb through her curls. She feels other hands touch her new tail and scaly skin. The other mermaids also chirp, trying to ease her. It doesn't make her feel better. But she slowly comes to terms that she's stuck here.

* * *

  
The mermaids become her family. They believe they do. She loathes them and sees them as nothing but monsters. They didn't care though, only wanting for her to see she belongs with them.

Time wanes and she chooses to stay in a corner, tail curled around her. She refuses the fish the mermaids bring her. She refuses their touches. She refuses their beckoning to come into the water. She chooses to stay in her comfort spot, hoping to die of starvation or dehydration in her sleep within the seconds that pass. Unfortunately, her wishes are nothing more than empty disappointments.

When she doesn't die that way, she tries to kill herself with a broken crystal. One of the mermaids was quick to snatch it away and then watch her. The red-grey mermaid stays by her side after that, holding her close.

_"Mate... please..."_

No way she's just accepting this as her fate. Her life. She was fine human. She didn't ask to be some mermaid's play thing. She didn't ask to be submissive to a killer.

_"Mate... love..."_

She tells her she knows nothing of the sort and pushes her away.

When she does, the mermaid's head hits the wall with a sickening crack and she sees blood pool under her head when she falls.

She's still for a moment, waiting for the mermaid to move.

She doesn't.

Seeing this as her chance, she drags herself the best she can to the water and dives down. It's a vast pool and crystals provide light for her. She was able to make out some tunnels, all insanely wide enough so anyone who goes through wouldn't struggle. She gives each one a quick gaze, trying to keep herself afloat, not used to her tail. She listens to her gut and swims towards one she doesn't hear mermaids in and takes it. She doesn't stop, even when she constantly hits the walls of the tunnels. Not even when she hears her name being sung in panic. Not even when she bleeds and feeling weaker and weaker with each passing second.

* * *

  
She surfaces and laughs. She laughs because it's a miracle that she sees she made it home.

Even though it's night, she can see the back of her home. For the first time since her torture, she cries from happiness. She pulls herself out the water and continues to cry through the pain and the weight she's enduring. She slowly and surely gets closer and closer to her house. She doesn't care about how lidded her eyes become and how she can barely breathe. She doesn't care her arms bleed with cuts. She doesn't care that her tail bleeds, too, still sensitive.

She doesn't care her life is fading and that she may die.

She doesn't care.

All she cares about is getting away from the horrid mermaid.

* * *

  
She hears voices when she opens her eyes. She hisses from the brightness surrounding her and feels like something crashed into her. She tries sitting up, but can't. Her body gives and falls back into something leveled and soft. When she reaches out with her hands, she feels thin, rounded plastic and cold metal. She's cleaner and her arms are covered with medical cloth. She guesses she's in the hospital and the thought doesn't bother her.

A doctor comes in and tells her about her neighbor coming home and seeing her in the backyard and passed out. She had been out of it for three days and her neighbor and coworker have been constant visitors for her, asking when she'll wake up.

She takes in all in. She tries to remember what lead her to this state. She's not sure, but her mind only gives her an image of red scales and a tear stricken face.

* * *

  
She's moving out of her house as she as soon has it fixed up. When she was released from the hospital, she was absolutely floored to see the state everything was in. She tries to remember how that happened, but when she did, her chest hurts. Her arms hurt. Her legs hurt. She chooses to give up on trying to remember everything and move forward.

The house was sold a week after she moves into her new apartment. She misses the house because it's a gift from her parents before they passed away. It was only a five-year old house, so it held value but not as much as her childhood home would for her. She's not that upset either, still possessing photos and little trinkets that her parents could be remembered by. Surprisingly enough not damaged from the chaos the house had been in before.

The apartment isn't small and she doesn't feel crowded in it. She feels some sense of security. However, anytime she looks out her window, she's disappointed not to see a body of water behind it.

For whatever the odd reason.

* * *

  
She only unwraps the bandaging from her limbs to change them. She frowns every time she sees the scars that cover her brown skin. They're small, a paler shade of her own skin. They don't ache or itch, but she's bothered by them because she doesn't know how they got there.

She knows she had to be attacked. By who, she doesn't know.

The scars make her feel a little more vulnerable than she really is. She also feels like invincible. She doesn't remember her crisis, but she knows it had to be terrible for her to land in the hospital with multiple cuts. She survived it.

* * *

  
She gags up the salad, her appetite gone but lingering. She wants to punch a mirror or wall or something. For the past few days, she vomits up her food, no matter what it may be. The only time she doesn't if it's seafood or meat. What kills her though is that she has to digest the meat and fish mostly or completely raw. Otherwise, her throat becomes scratchy and burns after countless minutes of throwing up her stomach.

* * *

  
She gets nightmares. Gold eyes, red scales, salty tears. Begging, whining, scratching.

A soft whisper telling her to come back home.

_"Please... come back... mate... please...."_

It's on repeat and she can't decode nothing out it. She can't stop it, no matter how much she tries to dream of something else. She always makes up at abrupt times in a sheen of cold sweat, her chest constricted and the scars tingling.

* * *

  
She's a monster.

She's a complete monster.

She didn't mean, but it happened. She wants to go back through time and change it, but she can't. She has to deal with this.

She wants to go back and apologize to the man. He didn't do anything wrong besides bid her a goodnight and pick up the bag she dropped. It was as if a sudden burst of rage and hunger came over her. She lashed out at him, scratching his arm with sharp claws and hissed at him. When she realized what she done, the man was already scurrying away and taking refuge into his own apartment.

The memory is nothing more than a nightmare in reality.

She's shaking under the icy shower, naked and curled in the corner. Her claws were still present and embedded in her arm and thigh, creating new scars. Her lip is bleeding from the fangs she has that is bitten down into her flesh. She doesn't feel the pain like a victim would. Instead, it's her punishment. She endures because she believes she's a bad person.

No... not a person.

She's a monster.

She almost killed an innocent man.

Could she had done something like this before and not remember?

Her lashing out did feel... natural. An instinct.

Over and over she starts to whimper apologies to whoever she may harmed before. No one hears them, but she still says them. Says them and begs for forgiveness.

Then she feels it.

Her legs start to feel like knives being pushed out of them. Like someone is trying to crawl through her skin. That ripping sound she hears is familiar. It overcomes the pattering of the water and it catches her attention. When she figures out where it's coming from, everything starts to piece together. The scream she lets out is tearful and caught in her throat.

Her legs are covered with violet and magenta scales that peek out between the slits of her skin. They grow and take over, mending together like a self-made puzzle. She tries clawing at the wall in panic, breathing in broken rhythms and her heart drumming in her ears. She twists and turns before she manages to open the shower's door. She drags herself out the shower, leaving the water on. The water is red as it drains.

She groans at her added weight, gripping at the sink's edge and pulling herself up. When she gasps, suddenly in need for that water when her reflection stares back at her. Her face was littered with luminescent scales and her eyes weren't brown. They're a deep pink color and the white of her eyes are now black. When she opens her mouth, there are the fangs she felt. Her fingers are bothering her, too. She can see sticky, thin webbing forming and stitching to each finger. 

She cries, her reflection a harsher reminder that she was right. That she is a monster.

* * *

  
Singing. Someone is singing her name and it's beautiful.

There's feathery touches on her scaly cheek and comforting rubbing on her arm. She opens her eyes and sees another female with angelic features, gingerbread skin and curly hair. She looks vaguely familiar.

She is the one singing to her, nothing but concern in her eyes.

Immediate panic shoot through her and she pushes the girl away to tell her to leave. Not she isn't safe to be near.

The girl protests and take her side again and tells her she's helping. That she couldn't leave her mate to suffer.

Confusion, then horror hits when she watches the other's eyes turn from brown to gold and fangs peer from her between her lips.

Memories come flashing back and now she's why the way she is now. She craves for raw life and have scars from scales that grow under her skin. She has an indescribable temper with vicious claws to match. Because she is like her.

A mermaid.

She roars and goes to attack but the mermaid grabs her and holds her down. She chirps and clicks and unlike before, the sounds soothe her. She slowly gives in, relaxing and vulnerable.

_"Mate..."_

She feels kisses press against her face and forehead. Then her neck, shoulders and collarbone. The kisses stop on her hands and fingers.

_"Mate... mine..."_

She asks her why, why her?

Her answer was just those repeating words again.

_"Mate... mine..."_

The mermaid adds one more though.

_"Beautiful..."_

The kiss given to her lips is soft and assuring. This mermaid doesn't want to hurt her, despite already doing so much to her. The mermaid just wants to love her. Cherish her.

She doesn't want to let her, but there's no choice.

It's evident that if she runs, she'll follow. The mermaid wouldn't even let her kill herself.

She stares, eyes glossy. And nods.

The mermaid happily chirps and hugs her, burying her nose in her hair. She awaits to be picked up, to be carried off back to that wretched pond.

Much to her bafflement, the mermaid just curls to her side and lays in the bed with her. Her leg is thrown over her tail and an arm encircles around her waist.

She lets a couple of moments go by until she asks the mermaid if she was taking her back.

_"Home... here, too..."_

She is clueless as to what she means but then she eyes around the room and recognizes it.

It's her old one.

This is her room.

This was her house. The one her parents left her.

Which means the pond was still close.

She questions as to how the mermaid manages to obtain it, but gets a finger pressed to her lips. The mermaid coaxes her to sleep after giving her one more kiss. She surrenders, knowing when she awakens she'll still want to ask more and undoubtedly, the mermaid may answer.

Because she loves her and wants to please her.

Maybe... maybe she'll allow this to happen. Find a balance. Cooperation.

Maybe... she can embrace her new identity and accept this mermaid.

They're mates after all.


End file.
